


Like a Book

by marimoes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Act 3, Fluff, Hawke teaching Fenris to read, M/M, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25896016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marimoes/pseuds/marimoes
Summary: “Ah, right,” Fenris sighs, pulling the book back to his lap. Hawke smiles, easing away again to continue reading the papers drawn together by loose bindings that sit in messy piles. No doubt the manifesto of that blighted mage, with words far too complex for Fenris to understand right now. Not that he wants to read it anyways. Tight hands dig into the leather of the book. “Hawke?”Hawke looks back, eyebrows quirked up in question. “Need something else?”
Relationships: Fenris & Male Hawke, Fenris/Male Hawke
Comments: 5
Kudos: 63





	Like a Book

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lufink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lufink/gifts).



> For Luf for being a wonderful wonderful person and helping me with my other projects. I would write to the end of the world for you messere.

His fingers turn the pages weakly without feeling, and Hawke looks over. Brows furrowing, he scoots a little closer, knee barely touching Fenris’. It’s enough to send a weird bend in Fenris’ thoughts, making them crooked and fuzzy as he looks back to the chapter he was thumbing through. Has Hawke always felt this way when he touched him?

Warm? Electric?

“Having trouble?” Hawke asks, leaning over to look at the page Fenris stopped at. It’s a rather lengthy one, likely filled with a lot of description—at least Fenris thinks so. He doesn’t see any quotation marks on it—and Hawke curls his fingers in question. The book is passed to him willingly, eyes scanning it quickly. “Ok, so what part has got you?” 

“They were talking about the forest, or something, and then suddenly were going through it? It’s too many words for a lot of nothing,” Fenris blows, breath weakly catching the page edges and causing them to flutter. 

Hawke looks back to the page before giving a soft snort. “They were being _thorough_. Not through. It’s one letter off though, so it’s an easy thing to mix up.” 

To relent this side of himself to Hawke—Fenris battles with it. He tugs like a young mabari on a rope, desperately wanting Hawke to continue tugging the other side, but unwilling to ease on his own. But slowly, Hawke has begun to drag him over the invisible line between them. It hasn’t been easy by any account for either of them, especially given their past. 

Even so, Hawke has seemed to put it behind him. Tucked it away like Fenris has seen him do with many things in his life. How he wishes he too could tuck it away; the life he led before; the blood spilt on his hands in the name of another. Whether or not he wants to tuck that night between them away too… Fenris hasn’t decided. 

“Ah, right,” Fenris sighs, pulling the book back to his lap. Hawke smiles, easing away again to continue reading the papers drawn together by loose bindings that sit in messy piles. No doubt the manifesto of that blighted mage, with words far too complex for Fenris to understand right now. Not that he wants to read it anyways. Tight hands dig into the leather of the book. “Hawke?” 

Hawke looks back, eyebrows quirked up in question. “Need something else?” 

Fenris shakes his head, pushing the book closed before setting it beside him on the couch. The words feel dry in his mouth as he tries to conjure them. Does he thank him? Apologize? Whatever the emotion is that is in his chest is foreign, even to him, and doesn’t know what to do. 

Maker, if Varric were here maybe he would have the word for it. He has too many at times, Fenris thinks, but now wouldn’t be one of them. 

“It’s just appreciate you doing this for me, even after,” Fenris says, rubbing a harsh thumb against the top of his other hand, wringing them gently, “even after all that happened that night. After I left. I’m glad to still have you around.” 

Hawke leans up, dropping the papers back onto the table in front of him. He moves closer again, just a touch, until his knee bumps against Fenris’. This simple little touch… it does so much. Too much, perhaps, but—

“You’re still my friend, Fenris. A single night doesn’t change that,” Hawke says, and Fenris knows he’s being completely sincere. He wishes he didn’t. “I didn’t think it worried you.” 

“A lot of things worry me!” Fenris snaps, but sighs, hanging his head a second later, “I just deal with them poorly.” 

A hand curls around his shoulder, and where Fenris would normally flinch away to break the contact, he sits still. He just waits, curiosity too great to do anything else; to say anything else. Hawke’s fingers press gingerly at first, but then a little harder as he leans in. Their knees are now nearly parallel with Hawke moving closer and closer still. His hand falls but doesn’t go far as it rests just above Fenris’ lower back.  A heavy pulse thuds loud in his ears and Fenris prays Hawke can’t hear it as he still shifts. Warm breath floats against his ear, pooling in the curve of his neck and tickling the hair that curls there. Hawke’s lips press against Fenris’ cheek and linger for a moment before he pulls back. 

“I think we all do,” Hawke murmurs and as he starts to shift away, Fenris feels his hand jerk out against his will. It tightens around Hawke’s wrist, squeezing for a second before he releases

Silence sits in the air, cut only by their breathing. Neither of them wants to speak, or rather, neither of them knows what to say.

Hawke shifts up onto his feet all at once, nearly bouncing on his toes from the momentum. “I’ll get out of your hair now. If you want to, we’re all going to be at the Hanged Man later. Supposedly, Varric learned a new way of Wicked Grace, but I’m willing to bet that just means he learned a new way to cheat.” 

Fenris stares up, slightly bewildered at the shift in tone after everything that just happened, but says, “Maybe.” 

Hawke sends a final flash of a grin in his direction as he passes through the door out into the foyer again. “That's not a no. I hope you _thoroughly_ enjoy the rest of that book. It was my favorite back when I was younger.” 

Fenris glances back down to the cover and for the first time spies unusual lines carved into the corner of the back. Crooked and poorly scratched, are the letters “GH.” 

“Hawke, this is yours?” Fenris turns to argue but finds no one but himself in the room. 

He blinks, discomfort begging to swallow him as he strains to see as far as he can down the stairs without standing, but quickly relents. If he wants to see Hawke he’ll have to go tonight, and he’d like to be able to talk to him about something. Anything that isn’t what just happened. 

So, he opens the book back to where he last left it and starts to read. 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @noswordstyle  
> Twitter: @__moes__


End file.
